Season One, Episode One: Introductions
by AngelHoffman
Summary: A new character resembling Scarlett Johanssen is introduced to the cast of House, M.D. Angel Hoffman, a woman in her late 20's who is in chronic pain, meets Dr. House and applies for a job. Will House have a new employee to toy with?
1. Chapter 1

Angel Hoffman got up at the break from the support group and headed to the back table. The standard coffee was there, and a box of donuts. Just as she spied a raspberry filled one, another hand snatched it. She looked up to see a man, cane in hand, taking a bite. "Hey…I didn't see you in group." It was more of an accusation than a question.

"Not in group." He said, starting to walk away. She followed him.

"Who do you think you are?" She limped after him with her own cane. He stopped, turned. Looked at her for a moment. She noticed his sky-blue eyes immediately.

"I work here. Now if you'll excuse me, I have lives to save." There was a mocking tone in his voice and she didn't care for it.

"Yeah, well, those are for the group. I don't care who you are…" She wasn't letting him off so easily.

He spun around, pasted a smile on his face. "Dr. Greg House. Nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but I have a donut in it." He heard her sharp intake of breath.

"You're House? _The_ Dr. House? I….I am so sorry I bothered you," she turned to walk away, obviously embarrassed.

"What's wrong with your leg?" He called out to her. She turned slowly, shrugged.

"Pain. That's why I'm in the Chronic Pain support group" She met here a few times a week at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Thank god the meetings were free.

"Well, I didn't think you were just here because you were bored. What caused your pain?" He was looking at her, taking her more seriously now.

"Some say fibromyalgia, others say it's in my head." She felt like a germ under a microscope, being examined.

"Make an appointment with my office. I'll take a look." He was done. He started walking away.

"I…I'd love to, but…" She called out to him. He stopped, sighed, annoyed.

"What, your calendar is booked?" This was getting annoying.

"No, it's just that…my insurance won't pay to see you. I…already tried. I know you're the best." She blushed a bit.

He nodded. "Ok. Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me." And he walked off.

The next time Greg House approached the table, the box was empty. He frowned.

"Looking for this?" Angel Hoffman held up a donut, waving it slightly. "Oh I'm sorry, last one." She shrugged and daintily took a nibble of it. It took everything in her not to laugh at the look on his face, just like a child who had his favorite toy taken away. He snorted and walked off without a word.

The following week, Angel was once more waiting for him. He was truly befuddled. There was no box of donuts at all.

"Oh, I'm in charge of snacks today. Carrot stick?" She waggled it at him with a smirk. His blue eyes became a glare.

"Cheeky," he muttered as he left for clinic duty. Maybe he could swipe something from Wilson.

Like a true creature of habit with a dash of hope thrown in, Dr. House ventured by the table one last time the following week. Perhaps that annoying woman would be absent, stricken by some kind of illness one gets from eating vegetables instead of donuts. But no, there she was. He stopped short because he saw quite a different look on her face—not anger, or taunting. He just couldn't identify it.

"Truce?" Angel held out a small box tied with a red ribbon. "There are 2 donuts in here, just for you." He eyed it suspiciously and didn't move forward. She laughed.

"I swear, just donuts, and…." He knew it. There was going to be an _and_ attached.

"Not interested." Yes he was passing up donuts but he didn't think they were worth whatever came with them.

"Drinks. On me. Tonight." House stopped. He didn't see that coming. Slowly he pivoted to face her. She was serious. Seriously attractive. Low cut t-shirt, tight jeans, curl of a smile on her lips.

"What kind of donuts?" He was not giving up that quickly, not after the past few weeks of her taunting.

The smile got bigger "Raspberry- filled." He wanted to inspect them closer—the donuts of course. He peeked inside the box, scrutinizing them. The scent of raspberries was unmistakable.

He nodded. "Ok._ Harry's_. 6 pm." House walked away, feeling like this was a win-win-win situation.

She stood there and smirked, even as he called back "If you're waiting for a thank you, can't, have a box of donuts in my hand." He heard the ring of her laughter all the way into the exam room.

"You have a date tonight?" Dr. James Wilson asked House incredulously. He slowly reached towards the box of donuts. House slapped his hand away.

"Drinks, Wilson. I only agreed to drinks." House had to admit it was worth it for the donuts.

"How hot is she?" House gave him a look. "Oh do not tell me you just did this for donuts."

"Ok, yes, and she's buying. All my wishes have come true," House mocked feeling a nice buzz from the powdered sugar.

"Well at least one of us has an interesting evening planned," Wilson sighed. "Don't you have clinic duty or something? You're getting powdered sugar all over my office."

"You just have donut envy. Fine, I'll take my baked goods elsewhere. See you later, Wilson."

"Bye, House."


	2. Chapter 2

House entered _Harry's_ about a quarter after six, thinking two things—he didn't know her name, and if she wasn't steamed at him for being late, then maybe there was more to her than a pretty face and donuts.

Only thing was, she wasn't there. House got a table, ordered a round anyway. No sense wasting a cozy bar and an empty evening by not drinking, even if it was alone. Wilson would just be home watching his Telenovelas on Tivo anyway.

House started running a tab. Oh, she was going to pay alright. About the point he considered that he was being stood up, he saw her enter. She hadn't seen him yet and he had to admit the look on her face concerned him. He knew it all too well. Pain. The kind that leaves you sweating and white-knuckling it out until you can take your next vicodin. Or in his case morphine now that he was Amber-free.

But when she turned her head and saw him, her face lit up, part embarrassment, part….was she really happy to see him? Maybe this was drinks in exchange for consultation….and not an attempt at a date…not that House was interested in either deal. Ok, she was a solid 7, maybe 8, Cuddy being the gold standard of a 10. Red silk blouse, black tight skirt just the right kind of short…

Slowly she made her way over to the table, and began apologizing before trying to sit. House was so distracted by her perfume—was that sandalwood?-- he found himself pulling out her chair before he realized it.

"Dr. House—"she began, flustered.

"Just House." Damn, was he smiling to put her at ease?

"I am so sorry; I missed the bus and had to walk. I'm glad you didn't wait to order," she was trying to put him at ease but the pain was so bad she could barely focus. She ordered a glass of sake.

"Interesting choice…I'll have one as well." He noticed her hands shaking and saw she was watching him.

'I…don't normally do this, ask doctors out for drinks," she laughed a little, in spite of the pain. When the sake came, she leaned over to grab her purse. House couldn't help but notice the red lace of her bra peeking out framing a nice pair of solid 8s. He looked back up before she caught him peering.

She lowered her eyes as she poured out a few pills and downed them with a few sips of her drink, closed her eyes for a minute. She saw his blue eyes staring intently at her when she opened them.

He nodded at the bottle. "How many of those are you on a day?" He knew some of them were vicodin, the rest, he wasn't sure. She bit her lip.

"Six vicodin. Ativan, Depakote for my migraines…makes my hands shake……" This wasn't how she had planned the evening. She wanted to get away from all this…"Dr. House, I promise you, I'm not here to get your medical advice…"

He nodded. "Pain management?" Slowly she shook her head. "Let me guess, insurance." She timidly nodded. "You always mix your meds with alcohol?" She pursed her lips.

"Do you always grill the person you're with about their drinking habits?" she casually looked over the handful of shot glasses on his side of the table.

"Fair enough. Tell me something else." She looked a bit…peeved? He smiled a bit, turned on the good old Greg House charm. "Your name." She laughed…damn….he had to admit she had the kind of laugh that made him smile.

"It's Angel. Angel Hoffman. I can't believe…" Her cheeks got pink.

"Yeah I know. You were letting the power of the donuts go to your head." The blush intensified. "So you're not here for a consult." He cocked his head. "Why are we here?"

Time for the Angel Hoffman charm. She smiled, batted her eyelashes just enough to show them off, and toyed with a strand of her auburn hair. "I…just wanted to get to know you better. You're the world famous Dr. Gregory House…. I don't know too many people around here, and we do have that thing in common."

House began to bristle, his jaw hardened. "So...what? This is recruitment night for your pain support group? Did Cuddy set you up to this? "She was stunned into silence. "I don't need a support buddy; I have enough friends, thanks for the drinks Angel…" He began to stand, grabbing his cane. She looked mortified.

"I….I meant the donuts…I'm so sorry..." Was she going to cry? Crap. He sat down, his face softened.

"Sorry. People tend to just see my cane. Those who don't have pain don't get it. And those who do usually think they know exactly what I'm going through. And you don't. No more than I get where you're coming from. So…." She tried to wave it off, but she was still shaking.

"Look. I am sorry." He looked away. "I'm not very good at these things…"

"Going out for drinks?" she offered, a bit less timid now.

"Talking. With people. Unless it's mocking them or saving their lives." He looked back at her, there was that smile again. He almost wish she'd quit it. He was starting to feel like he should be polite or something.

They sat quietly for a few minutes. The sake was having the desired effect…she felt calmer and a bit less pain. An old Billy Joel song came on the jukebox and House chuckled. She loved the way his eyes looked when he smiled--something new but oddly familiar that she couldn't place. "Not exactly what I picture as a humorous song," she ventured.

So he told her about meeting Wilson, bailing him out of jail, all over this song. Her smile was worth the price of the story. Maybe it was the smile, or the memory of her bra, or the drinks, but against his better judgment House asked her out again, this time for dinner.

"I'd like that. Thanks, House. Any place in mind?" House shook his head.

"Nope. Usually get takeout or Wilson cooks." Now she had an odd look on her face.

"So…how long have you and Wilson been together?" Did she look disappointed? What the heck?

"Oh my god…Wilson is my best friend. We live together. We're not gay." She smiled and nodded. "We're not. Ask his ex-wives. Ok maybe that was a bad example." He cocked his head "You're mocking me."

"Me? Ok maybe just a little," she smirked. "How about Thai food? I hear the place around the corner from PPTH is pretty good."

"Yeah ok. But you will have to come over sometime for dinner. Wilson loves to cook. You'll like him." _House, what's with all the talking?_ He thought. He hadn't had that much to drink. What was it about this woman? Normally he never trusted a woman further than sex, and even then, look where that got him with Stacy.

Cautiously she asked, "So…what happened with your leg?" She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't pushed too hard. House found himself opening up to Angel, the infarction, the coma, Stacy's betrayal.

Angel listened with concern. This wasn't uncommon—people trusting her with their pain, their problems. She really did care, and she hoped empathy—and not pity—showed on her face. House felt self-conscious but one look into her eyes and he felt at ease.

"I'm sorry you went through that," she said softly. She wanted to reach for his hand but she knew it wasn't right. Not now.

House was flustered now. "I…don't normally go around telling strangers about my life." He looked away.

She caught his gaze and smiled a little. "I get that a lot."

He cleared his throat, trying to feel a bit more in control. "One reason I asked you about your meds and pain management. I bet that's only part of the meds you take." He hadn't meant to put her on the defensive but he didn't like feeling vulnerable like this with her.

He had caught her off-guard. "Anxiety meds. Sleep meds, meds for my stomach, allergies and my migraines if they're bad enough." He narrowed his eyebrows.

"You're on too many pills." She could do nothing but sit, eyes lowered. "I just mean…your care needs to be managed better. How many doctors?"

"Two," her voice was low. "My GP and neurologist. For the headaches and migraines."

"Let me guess. Your GP is doing most of the work because of insurance red tape" She nodded. "What about work? Any chance of changing insurance?" She swallowed hard.

"I……don't have a job." Her heart was pounding. "I had to quit because of the migraines. They're just getting tolerable now with my new meds."

House, not a stranger to an odd migraine here and there, narrowed his eyes. "Just how many were you having?"

She gave him a wry smile. "About 4 or 5 a week. My official diagnosis: Chronic daily headache due to transformed migraine, and Complex Migraine Disease. Almost 5 years now." But House wasn't laughing.

_My god…_"Have you had an MRI?" She shook her head slowly, with a touch of panic. "Relax, it's not that I think you have a brain tumor it's just that…"

"No," she interrupted him, "I'm claustrophobic."

"Still." He downed the last of his drink. "This is important. What was your last job?"

"Um…medical receptionist and assistant….but what…?" House interrupted her.

"Nevermind." He handed her a card. "That's my number. I hardly answer. But pull yourself together a resume and I'll see it gets to my boss, Dr. Lisa Cuddy." She started to speak, but found she was unable to. "Yeah yeah yeah you can thank me later if you get a job."

The check came, and as Angel reached for it, House put his hand on it. She blushed at the touch of his fingers on hers. "You don't have a job, I do. Lesson one. Don't invite people out for drinks when you're out of work." She nodded.

He helped her out of her chair. It was painful watching her walk, trying to maintain a smile on her face, knowing she wasn't faking the smile. They stood outside in the cooling fall air as House pulled on his riding gloves.

"Lesson two: don't walk if absolutely possible. Tell your date you missed the bus and he'll call you a cab." He could see her blush in the dimming lights.

She quietly admired his motorcycle while he dialed a cab for her. "I'd drive you home myself but, 1 helmet" he shrugged.

"Oh, please, I understand……I've never been on one, a little scary to me" she laughed.

The cab came. "So. See you soon?" She grinned and nodded.

He held the cab door for her. Impulsively she reached up and quickly hugged him. "Thanks House. Goodnight"

House could still feel the warmth of her smile on the drive home.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're taking her out for dinner? This sounds serious. House are you on vicodin again?" Wilson looked at his friend closely, only half-joking.

"You're just jealous, and no it's not serious. If anything it's to assert my commitment to bachelorhood. She thought we were gay, you know." House grabbed a handful of Wilson's fries.

"Imagine that…so does she have a name? And what could possibly be so intriguing about her that would warrant dinner…House did you sleep with her?" Wilson was not joking this time.

House gave him a wounded look. "Her name is Angel Hoffman, and….she's nice ok? She had the power to make me pull her chair out for her. You'd like her."

"Made you behave like a gentleman? This is serious." Wilson reached over, feeling House's forehead. House slapped his hand away. "But she is beautiful, right?"

"Yes, she is, down to her red lace bra," House paused a moment, remembering.

"Ha! You did sleep with her!" Wilson triumphantly ate his last fry.

"No, she leaned over. Caught a peek. Mind in the gutter," House grumbled now that the fries were gone. "If you must know…she's in a lot of pain. Like 6 a day vicodin habit" His voice was softer.

Wilson furrowed his brow. "Diagnosis?" House shook his head.

"No job, no insurance. But I'm working on that. I've been bugging Cuddy for an assistant for awhile. She's nice to look at, says she has the experience…" House glared at Wilson's smile. "What."

"Greg House are you developing some sense of….empathy? She must really be an angel then," Wilson smirked.

"Don't you have bald kiddos to tend to?" Lunch was over. Time to terrorize his team.


	4. Chapter 4

"House, thanks again for dinner, it was nice, "Angel said, smiling as he held the restaurant door for her. He had to admit she was starting to grow on him. He was about to call a cab for her when a frustrated look passed over her face. He paused.

"Oh it's…nothing. Never mind." He arched an eyebrow. "I had the resume for you. I left it at my place. It's fine, I'll just pass it to you the next time I see you."

"It's not late, let's just swing by and I can give it to Cuddy tomorrow." Her pain didn't look like it could wait another hour. "I happened to bring my truck today anyway." The cold air was making his leg ache worse than normal. Wilson hated him using the motorcycle regardless.

The smell of sandalwood filled the truck until House felt drunk from it. She had her own glow from the sake, and they exchanged small talk until she directed him to her apartment. She walked from here? No wonder her pain was out of control.

The little apartment was dark, cold, even after she flicked the switch by the doorway and turned on a small lamp. He could feel her embarrassment from the tiny place and the questionable neighborhood. He tried to put her at ease, admiring her book collection. He noticed a few books of piano music. "No piano though?"

She smiled, a bit sad."My hands are just too sore…and I really didn't have the room anymore for one. Do you play?" He nodded. "I'd love to hear you sometime. I…miss it."

She found the resume and handed it to House. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate this." He slipped on his glasses, glanced over it. Didn't finish high school, but she had her GED, and some business classes. Looked good. Didn't think he'd have any problems getting Cuddy to approve it, but didn't want to get her hopes up yet.

Angel hung up her coat, even though the room was still quite chilly. "Can I offer you some tea?" House shook his head, feeling the cold seeping further into his leg. She started walking towards him, lost her balance, and luckily caught herself before crashing into him.

She took his grimace on his face as annoyance with her clumsiness instead of that of his own pain and stammered her apologies, "House, I'm so sorry…the meds, I'm such a klutz.." He waved it off, but she continued. He finally put his hand on her arm to get her attention.

"It's fine. Though another reason to get you in with pain management. Too many meds, and you wind up having a risk of falling." She stood there, shaking, her heart pounding hard enough; she was surprised House couldn't hear it.

She looked up at him, appreciating the warmth of his hand on her arm. House looked rather dashing in his reading glasses, she decided. Angel took a step closer, her silk blouse brushing his arm.

From House's vantage point, he could see her breathing hard from stumbling, showing off the swell of the creamy skin of her breasts. She blushed, knowing exactly where his gaze was, but didn't break eye contact. She placed her hand on his arm, gently trailing a finger down it. Angel tilted her jaw up ever so slightly, parted her red lips….House found himself leaning towards her, as she closed her eyes, until he could practically taste the sake on her mouth….

House's cell phone rang and they took a step away from each other, the moment gone. He growled into the phone, "House…someone better be dying…"

Angel absentmindedly fussed with a few books on the table while he talked. When the call ended, he casually said "Turns out someone is dying." To her horrified look, he placated her, saying "Don't worry, I save lives, remember? They'll be good as new tomorrow. But I have to get back. With any luck, you too will be working all hours of the day and night."

She smiled and for a moment, House wished that phone call had come a bit later. He hadn't even unbuttoned his jacket. He got to the door, trying not to limp too much. "Hey, Wilson's having this thing this weekend, wanna come? Friend of mine's in town." He didn't want to overwhelm Alvie with too many people, but he thought Angel might put him at ease. She had that way about her.

"Sure, I'm looking forward to meeting Wilson." She walked House to the door, that lost moment warming her despite the chill of the apartment. She could see how awkward he felt. It wasn't going to be repeated, to her disappointment.

"Ok. Thanks for the resume. See you Saturday." House wanted to kiss her, wanted it badly. But…it wasn't just the team calling him away. If she was going to be working for him, it would be awkward enough. Add chemistry to the mix and it would be pure disaster. By the time he got to PPTH, he'd thought of enough reasons not to kiss her. But damn, those lips of hers and that scarlet bra were reason enough to throw the rest out the window.


	5. Chapter 5

Angel knew a little about Dr. James Wilson, besides the fact he was an oncologist, was he'd recently had donated a part of his liver to a patient. She brought a bottle of sparkling grape juice instead of wine. He opened the door and flashed a smile; Angel was instantly smitten. He helped her with her coat and held a chair out for her. "Thanks again for having me. House talks about you so much I feel like I already know you."

House seemed distracted, so she introduced herself to his friend, Juan Alvie who had enough energy for the whole room. He soon had the whole room laughing with his raps.

"Don't mind me, I'm just cooking in here," called Wilson from the kitchen. Angel had come without her cane but she thought she could help a bit anyway.

"Need some help, Dr. Wilson?" He saw right away what House saw in her. That smile

"Please, call me James. Um….do you mind chopping tomatoes? We're having tacos," Her grin got brighter

"I love tacos. House told me you enjoy cooking."Soon the two of them had their own conversation going, though Wilson noticed she kept glancing at House, looking a bit disappointed.

That didn't seem to change at dinner either. Wilson knew he was happy to see Alvie but…it was like he was deliberately ignoring Angel.

She decided to speak up while Wilson and Alvie cleared the table. "House…is everything ok? Things seemed to be…going a different direction the other night."

"If you're going to work for me—and that seems highly likely—then there's no sense in carrying anything further. I don't do favoritism." Wilson noticed a hurt look flash across her face. "Wilson, I'm going to drive Alive to his brother's place. We'll be awhile. Night, Angel." She had been dismissed. Alvie swooped in for a warm hug but when the door closed, she stood there a moment, trying to compose herself.

"I…..I don't want to keep you from the rest of your evening, thank you so much for dinner, "she turned quickly, too quickly and spun right into Wilson's arms. She hadn't realized he was right behind her, Wilson quietly cursing House's lack of tact.

"Oops, gotcha there," Wilson helped her steady her footing. She blushed.

"Thanks, I tend to do that a lot" she laughed it off, but Wilson could see a tear in her eye.

"Actually….I wouldn't mind the company. Would you like some tea?" He turned on the stereo and cringed at House's heavy metal CD blasting over the speakers, adjusted the volume. "Ok, then, now that we can hear again…."

"I saw you like opera…._.Tosca's_ my favorite," she responded shyly, running her finger along a shelf of CDs. "I worked as a server below an Italian restaurant; they'd have singers some nights." Wilson put the music on. She sat on the couch, closed her eyes and Wilson could have heard it a hundred times, but watching her face, the glow and emotion was like hearing it the first time. She blinked her eyes open and blushed, seeing that Wilson was watching her.

"I…I've never actually seen it, if it's half as beautiful as the music…." Wilson, caught up in her excitement, sat next to her on the couch and took her hand.

"Oh you have to see it, It's just….breathtaking. They put the words above the stage," he said helpfully. She laughed and waved her hand.

"With the music and passion like that who needs words? I mean, of course it would be wonderful to learn it in Italian. I have a book of opera music for the piano. But…"she let out a sad little sigh. "Well, someday. At least there are CDs to listen to it anytime I want. "She grinned.

Wilson smiled as he made tea; this was nice, he hadn't done anything remotely similar since…..he gently put Amber out of his thoughts as he brought out the tea.

"It just so happens that I do from time to time go to the Opera. House detests it, so if you found yourself free in" he looked at his watch" say in a week's time, I think I heard the Opera company is doing….what's it called? Oh yeah, _Tosc_a."

Her eyes shone like diamonds, her smile was worth every minute even if he didn't love _Tosca_. "James, are you serious? But surely there must be someone else, you just met me, and…." She was so flustered, her hands began shaking. Wilson took them and smiled warmly.

"And here I was thinking I'd spend the night alone, or forgo the opera altogether. This will be a real treat for me as well." Gently he rubbed her fingers until the shaking stopped. "I take it that's a yes?"

"Yes! Thank you so much!" Before she knew it, Angel hugged him, feeling a genuine hug returned, not stiff like House. Then she looked dismayed, "But…I don't have anything remotely suitable for the opera."

Wilson thought a moment, and had a few ideas. "I'm going to need your dress size." He almost thought he should duck as he posed that question. She did blush but obliged. "You're on your own on shoes and accessories." He winked, she laughed at hearing a man use the word 'accessory'.

"I feel like Cinderella going to the ball" she laughed again, and he carefully twirled her, and then dipped her. When she stood upright again, their eyes met. His arm held her closer.

Angel found herself in a predicament. Two men. Two sets of arms in one week. And they were best friends. But House had pretty much said he wasn't interested....

Softly she added, "So I guess that would make you Prince Charming." She batted her eyelashes but needn't have. Not that it didn't have any effect but he was caught the moment he looked into her eyes.

Now it was his turn to look a bit flushed, "Oh I don't know I'd go that far, "he said with that 'aw shucks' grin that made him so adorable. He certainly hadn't let go of her.

A slight sigh and a painful furrow in her forehead forced them back to the reality of her pain. He led her to the couch so she could get her medications. "I'm so sorry," she apologized.

"No, not at all. Are you ok? Do you need anything?" She shook her head, gave him a reassuring smile.

"I lost track of time and my body is letting me know." Angel sipped her tea with her meds and sighed. "You have that look on your face. The same one House gave me when I took my meds. Go ahead with the lecture, I can take it," she said softly.

Wilson shook his head slowly, "No lecture, just…that's a lot of meds to be on. And if House said something to you, well….that's pretty significant. I heard you're applying; they have a great physical therapy department. Might help you with some of the pain." She made a face. He couldn't help but laugh.

"I know, but I've seen it help a lot of people. Honest. Would this face lie to you?" She laughed again.

"James….tell me something then….a week ago, House and I are out, he's a little harder to talk to than most, I get that. Tonight….did I do something wrong? Or say something? I'm not asking you to break a confidence…"Angel looked a bit hurt and bewildered.

_Dammit House_…."House can be…complicated. I can't say what's going on in his head half the time. But…I'm sure it's not you. Angel, you're funny, witty, you love opera, and you're gorgeous…" She blushed and turned away. He reached over and turned her chin to him. "It's not you."

"Thanks James. I really should be getting home. I had quite an unexpected evening. I came for tacos, and now I get to dream of the opera." He helped her with her coat, having already called a cab.

He stood there, casually holding her hand and walked her to the curb. "Goodnight, gorgeous," Wilson said as he kissed her hand. She waved as they drove off. He didn't mind the cold so much walking back inside.

Several houses down, House sat in his truck, had been waiting for her to leave. He was cold and he hurt. He'd seen how happy Wilson looked and couldn't bear to come in during that. Hadn't seen him that happy since Amber.

But Angel? Oh she looked pretty happy too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that.


	6. Chapter 6

"Where are you going in the penguin suit?" House glared up at Wilson from the couch. "If there's a fundraiser for the hospital that I forgot about, I'm not going."

"No, I'm taking Angel to the opera. We're seeing Puccini's _Tosca_ if you're interested." Wilson finished putting on his tie and cuff links then his tuxedo jacket.

"It all sounds like cats fighting in the alley to me. This is how interested I am," House mocked, changing the channel to a monster truck rally. "And I don't have to wear a tie"

House propped himself up on his elbows to look at Wilson opening the refrigerator. Wilson removed a rose. He knit his eyebrows together. "I don't have to buy plants either. What the heck Wilson?"

Wilson shrugged. "She's nice, she loves opera, I haven't been since….." Both men looked away, were silent for a moment. "And you obviously don't want to date her so…" Wilson trailed off quietly.

House lay back down on the couch looking back at the TV. "Enjoy your squalling cats."

Wilson smiled, shook his head. "Goodnight House."

*****

Wilson drove up to her apartment building; were his palms sweating? You'd think he'd never been on a date before. He had been so in love with Amber before she….he couldn't even think the words. Wilson never thought his heart would be open like this again. Yet here he was, dressed to the 9's, knocking on Angel's door.

A beautiful vision opened it; Angel blushed, it seemed, to her toes. "James, my goodness," she gushed, admiring him in his tuxedo. "You put Prince Charming to shame."

"And you, Angel," Wilson said, bowing, taking her hand, "are more gorgeous than Cinderella." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it slowly, gently. Her blush intensified. The dress was a perfect fit, and the color of swirling blues and aquas which reminded him of the ocean brought out the blue in her eyes. He'd hesitated at giving her this dress, and seeing her in it made his heart ache a bit. But she looked so happy….

"This is for you." With his other hand, Wilson brought from behind his back a long-stem pink rose tied in a sea-foam green ribbon to match the gown. As if her smile weren't reward enough, he got a shy kiss on his cheek for the gesture.

"Let me put this in water and grab my coat and purse." He stepped inside thinking it felt a bit chilly inside. She did a slow turn to show off for him. "You, James, found the perfect dress! Where did you get it?"

He felt a part of his heart catch and if he didn't say something soon his voice would catch as well. "Ok, I'm busted….it belonged to one of my ex-wives. I figured you were her size and I was right." He added a guilty shrug for effect. It seemed to work; Angel raised her eyebrows.

"_One_ of your ex-wives? Um, just how many do you have? And why do you have her clothing?" Angel wasn't quite to the point of giggling but she was mighty intrigued.

"Three. One of them, she left all her clothing behind; husband number 2 said he'd buy her couture. Looks better on you anyway," he finished the lie with wink. "Are…you ok with that?"

"As long as it doesn't bother you and we won't run into her at the opera, it's the prettiest dress I've ever worn." Coat on, she took Wilson's arm.

Her hair upswept left the nape of her neck bare; the sight and the fragrance of a lovely perfume quickly caught his attention. "Mmm, you smell as beautiful as you look," Wilson murmured as he helped her into his Volvo.

"It's Caramel, one of my favorite," she replied, welcoming the heat in the car.

Wilson laughed and explained that Karamel had been the name of one of the strippers at his first bachelor party. Angel got a bit quiet and turned away. "I'm so sorry, did I offend you?" _James you idiot, you do not talk about strippers and ex-wives on first dates!_

Now it was Angel with the butterflies in her chest. She bit her lip, and then laughed it off, "Oh, I'm being silly, I'm just nervous about going to the opera." He comfortingly put his hand on hers.

Wilson pulled up to Valet Parking and helped Angel out. She was still a bit quiet; he leaned close to her. "You look gorgeous, trust me." He noticed her limping a bit.

"In my excitement, I forgot my cane," she tried not to wince with every step. Wilson offered his arm.

"I'm happy to hold you close, you know, for your sake" he said, trying to look serious. That got a smile from her.

"That helps, in more ways than one," she replied, squeezing his arm tighter.

When they got inside the theatre, Angel couldn't help but stop and take it all in: the red velvet seats, the elaborate chandelier above, the gilded box seats, the orchestra tuning up. Wilson smiled at her joy, and led her to their seats. She turned to him, a lovely smile on her face. "James, thank you. The opera hasn't started but it's already one of the best nights of my life."

_If only House knew what he was missing out on_…..but selfishly, Wilson was glad that he, and not House, was out with Angel tonight. Watching Angel as the opera started was like watching a child in a toy store. It's not like he had the opera memorized but Wilson was almost more compelled to watch her reactions. When she turned, smiled and blushed, he looked back at the stage, but couldn't help stealing glances now and again.

When Mario sang of his love for Floria Tosca, Angel was enraptured. As the final notes of his aria ended, Angel squeezed Wilson's hand tighter; he noticed her eyes shining with tears. He was so touched by her tenderness, he handed her the handkerchief from his coat pocket. She ducked her head, smiling, dabbing her eyes. He patted her hand with his other one and they sat hands together.

At intermission Angel was almost afraid to speak, to break the spell. She and Wilson looked at each and started laughing at the same time. "I know, I was that way the first opera I went to," he admitted. "You're not just watching, you become a part of it." Angel nodded, her heart fluttering with happiness.

"James?" A woman called from their left. Wilson helped Angel stand as a lovely brunette approached and hugged him.

"Lisa, hi, fancy running into you here," he replied a little on the flustered side. Angel started getting nervous. "Angel, this is Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine at PPTH. Lisa, this is Angel Hoffman." They shook hands.

"Your name sounds familiar," she said, smiling, but unable to recognize her.

"I recently submitted an application through Dr. House," Angel offered. Lisa nodded.

"That's it. Well, nothing's official of course, but if you could come by for an interview on Wednesday at 10 a.m., I think there's an excellent chance of you getting the position. You know it's working for Dr. House, right?" Lisa looked a bit skeptical.

"Yes, is that going to be a problem?" She looked between Wilson and Lisa who in turned exchanged glances.

Lisa flashed a smile. "No of course not. It's just that Dr. House can be quite demanding of his team and he can be a bit unorthodox about his way of running a case. Just so you know what you're getting yourself into. I'm sure you'll do fine." Lisa patted her on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Dr. Cuddy. The few times we've been out things have gone mostly well," Angel's nerves were settling. Lisa looked impressed.

"You've been out with House? And now, with James…" Lisa wanted to protect both her friends.

"Oh," Angel appeared embarrassed and flushed pink, "We're all just friends."

Lisa patted her again on the shoulder. "James is a good friend to have. Count yourself lucky. I should be getting back. I'll see you on Wednesday, Ms. Hoffman. Enjoy the evening." Angel and Wilson took their seats.

Wilson could see the encounter had completely changed her demeanor. She was pale and shaking. He took her hand and held it gently, his other hand, he softly placed on her back. "Angel, are you all right? Do you need some of your medication?" She shook her head no.

"I apologize, James, if I embarrassed you in front of your boss. I just got flustered and…" She looked close to tears.

"Shh, it's ok, Lisa and I are good friends. And it just took her by surprise that House took anyone out. She didn't think anything of it, or anything unkind of you. In fact, it looks like that job is as good as yours." That evoked a smile from Angel.

"So you aren't upset that I said we were….friends?" Wilson looked puzzled.

"We….are, aren't we? I mean, this is our first date, "at this both blushed" but yes, we are friends. I hope to be very good ones someday soon."

For some reason, Angel felt a twinge of disappointment at the word_ friend_….but soon the lights dimmed and Act Two began. She was caught up once more.

By the end, Wilson was glad he'd given Angel his handkerchief. What had been a tear or two slipping down her cheek became silent sobs at the end. He gently slipped his arm around her, tenderly stroking her shoulder with his fingertips. He would have smiled if her sorrow hadn't seemed so genuine, like it had touched something deep in her. He hugged her a bit tighter, and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. He found himself kissing the tip of her head and getting a lump in his throat.

When the final notes had ended, the cast taken their final bows and the lights came up, Angel was half-laughing, half-crying. "I feel so foolish, getting so worked up like that."

Wilson sat facing her. "Angel, _Tosca_ is over 100 years old. Music like this moves you because of its power. Do you remember a movie you saw 5 years ago?" She shook her head. "Will you remember the first time you saw _Tosca_?"

Angel leaned over, kissed his cheek softly and whispered into his ear "Always."


	7. Chapter 7

Angel left the pain group Monday evening a bit later than usual; it was dark by the time she stepped outside. The weather was changing; she hugged her coat a bit closer to her body. The busses weren't running by now, damn. She knew Wilson and House had probably already left as well. She didn't need to glance in her purse, wrapped in her coat, to know she didn't have enough cab fare. Angel chided herself for lack of foresight, sighed and set off for home. At least she had her cane.

When she heard a noise behind her, she didn't even have time to react before someone pushed her down, threw her to her back and covered her mouth with a foul-smelling wool glove.

*****

Wilson's phone rang; he half-expected it to be House, trying to coax him to join him at the horror-movie marathon down at the Cineplex. He was startled and alarmed to hear Angel's teary voice instead. "James? I…" He could barely understand her for the crying. "Could you come over, please?"

"Angel? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He felt helpless on the other end, but he was already reaching for his keys and coat.

"Just…please?" Her voice was frightened, painful to hear.

"I'm on my way, hang on." Wilson rushed out, not bothering to leave House a note.

When he arrived, he found the front door unlocked, the room dimly lit by one small lamp. "Angel?" he called out in alarm, before his eyes adjusted and he saw her huddled on the couch. He rushed to her, knelt on the floor. "What is it? Are you hurt?" He could see the start of a bruise on her face.

Without a word, she sat up and held onto him for dear life. He soothed her, rubbing her back, shushing her until the sobs subsided and she could speak. As she leaned back, he saw her arm was very bruised, a few buttons on her coat torn, the rest smudged with dirt. "Did you fall?" he asked gently, knowing her recent dizzy spells.

She shook her head no, and couldn't make eye contact when she began to speak. "I got out of group late…I missed the bus and started walking home."

"You should have called, that's a long way to walk," he gently chided, sitting on the couch next to her.

She continued like she hadn't heard him. "I was almost to the outer edge of the lot when I heard a sound and someone knocked me down and covered my mouth," Angel's voice got teary and she was breathing hard.

Wilson got a sick feeling in his stomach. "Angel…did you call the police?"

Her eyes flew open in a panic. "No! No police… they didn't get anything, my purse was buttoned inside my coat, I wouldn't let go. The other one hit me with my cane," she tried to calm down, but cried out in pain when Wilson touched her arm.

"Angel, let me see, please," Wilson coaxed her, but she hugged her arms around herself tightly again. Finally she relented, extending her left arm. He gently examined her arm; it didn't seem broken, though she flinched at every touch. That's when he saw her blouse was torn. She covered herself and looked away, ashamed.

_Oh no_…Wilson gently took her hand. "Angel, did they…rape you?" She shook her head no; he let out a deep breath of relief.

"A car drove by, and it scared them off, and I just came home." The last of her adrenaline gone, she fell into Wilson's arms and cried quietly.

"We need to get you to PPTH and have you checked out; I don't think your arm is broken but…" She sat up looking scared again.

"No, I'm fine, I swear. Please, I couldn't bear everyone seeing me, knowing…."Angel looked away.

"You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You did nothing wrong. They did this to you," Wilson insisted, feeling angry at her assailants. Still, she refused.

Wilson sat with her for a few minutes, quietly. "Why don't you go change and I'll fix you up. Is that ok?" He asked softly. She nodded. Wilson realized her pain was out of control and she could barely stand. _How she walked all this way…._

"Let me help you to the bedroom. I promise I won't look." He helped her to the bed, got some clothes out of some drawers she pointed him to, and then stood outside the doorway, back turned. It pained him to hear her whimpers as she struggled.

Angel threw the torn blouse into the garbage and the rest into the hamper. She slowly pulled on the sweatshirt and pants, pulled her hair back and sat on the bed. "Okay," she called to Wilson, shakily.

Wilson had thought to grab his medical bag before he left. He cleaned up her scrapes as tenderly as he could and though he still insisted she needed an x-ray on her arm, agreed to just wrap it. She eagerly agreed to a shot of morphine and soon was feeling numb and sleepy.

Wilson tucked her into bed, stroking her hair. "Do you want me to stay?" Her big blue eyes looked up at him as she nodded. "No problem. I'll just take the couch…"

Angel reached up and took his hand. "James….the couch…it's lousy. Stay with me…in here? You've done so much but…please? Just sleep."

Wilson couldn't resist the look on her face, so frightened and vulnerable. He slowly nodded and climbed into bed next to her. He could feel her silent sobs shaking the bed, and put his arm around her protectively. Softly he kissed the back of her head and whispered words of comfort until she fell asleep.

He forgot how much he missed the feel of a woman's body curled up next to his in bed. The smell of her hair; her soft breathing; her body's warmth. As he fell asleep Wilson could only think two things: _Who could hurt such a lovely woman like Angel_; and _God, how I miss Amber_.


	8. Chapter 8

How do I look?" Angel asked Wilson as they walked into PPTH together. Her interview with Dr. Cuddy was this morning. Angel had covered the scrapes on her face as best she could. Walking was still difficult and the bruising on her arm was hideous.

Wilson gently squeezed her hand. "You look fine. Don't worry; you're going to do great. Lisa's a good, fair boss. And she remembered your resume. I think this job is a done deal." He smiled, and she nervously smiled back. If only she had his confidence.

Angel tapped on Cuddy's door; she was soon waved in. As Angel shook hands with her, Cuddy noticed the bruising on her arm. "Are you ok?" Lisa asked with concern.

Angel quickly looked away and said "I just slipped the other day. I'm fine." Lisa nodded, but still had a thoughtful frown on her face. She motioned for Angel to sit and pulled out her resume for review.

"Honestly, we haven't had any other applicants for this job, and House has been asking for an assistant. Your history looks good and I see no reason not to hire you. So unless you've changed your mind, welcome to PPTH," Lisa said with a smile. Angel let out a sigh of relief.

"Would you like a quick tour around? House won't be back for a few days so you won't start until Monday." Angel followed Lisa down the halls, up to the Diagnostics Department.

"Your desk will be in place by Monday in House's office; this is the conference room where the team meets. Dr. Chase, Dr. Taub, I'd like you to meet House's new assistant, Angel Hoffman."

Angel quickly shook hands with the two men, both smiled at her warmly. The tall blonde said hello with an accent. "Australian?" she guessed. He grinned and nodded. The other one, shorter but cute, Angel thought, welcomed her to "the War Room". Angel laughed.

Two more doctors walked in; Lisa introduced Dr. Foreman and Dr. Hadley. "Call me 13," the woman said. Angel looked at her curiously but shook her hand with a smile.

"Hi," said Dr. Foreman, a small smile on his face. He looked a bit busy and rushed as he handed out files to the rest of the team.

"We'll let you get back to work," Lisa said. As they walked back downstairs they unexpectedly ran into House. "I didn't expect to see you till Monday," Lisa remarked with surprise.

"I wasn't supposed to be seen till Monday yet here I am. Angel," House said, nodding in her direction. He glanced down at her cane hand. "What happened to your arm? Pretty nasty bruise."

"I...slipped and fell." Angel wondered if he bought it, glancing at his piercing stare, knowing he was looking at the scrapes. But he didn't argue, just said he'd see her bright and early on Monday.

Lisa promised Angel she'd try to rush the insurance papers through so she'd be covered in a week or two. Angel signed a few papers and left her office with a smile.

Wilson was waiting outside, matching her smile. "I take it you got the job?" Angel hugged him tightly. "Congratulations! Hey, we should celebrate. What do you say, dinner, Friday night?"

"That sounds nice, James. Wow, I can't believe it, I'm going to be working here, for Dr. Greg House," Angel replied, still a bit overwhelmed by it all.

"I hope you're ready. House the friend....interesting. House the boss...he's going to keep you on your toes," Wilson teased.

"Sounds like maybe I need a lucky rabbit's foot?" Angel asked a bit warily.

"You may need the whole rabbit," Wilson smiled, and put his arm around her, as they walked to the parking lot.

FINIS


End file.
